The Silver Knot
by Nuriko Kamaiji
Summary: After the War of the Ring and a love has blossomed between a Halfling and a Human. An untold tale of love, burning briefly but lasting until death. (6-3-05-I've just added a big hunk of the story- seeing as it's all already written- for anyone who cares)
1. The Shire, SR 1424

_© Nuriko Kamaiji February 2003_

_All The Lord of the Rings characters and places belong to Tolkien and whoever else has rights to it; all other characters and plot are mine_

**_The Shire, S.R. 1424_**

Peregrin smiled. Leaning forward, he gazed down at the woman lying in a bundle of blankets on the floor below his bed. Her hair was tousled, curling around her shoulders in long dark tresses, resting softly against her breasts. She stirred, gently rustling the woven quilt wrapped around her slim body, curled up so as to fit in the content of the blanket.

He was glad for this moment of sleep on her part, since it gave him time to contemplate what to do or even think of this entire matter. He could well imagine what his friend and cousin, Meriadoc would say. Criticize him for making a fool of himself, for being a "fool of a Took", like Gandalf had said once upon a time that seemed so long ago faraway in the Mines of Moria. But he knew he hadn't been a fool. No, he knew what he'd done and why he had. There was no question there.

Settled for the time, he watched her, taking a small satisfaction from the fact he had to lean down from his own bed to study her completely. For at her waking she would tower over him, being a whole head taller. Short for one of the race of Man, but quite large for one of his kind. In fact Meriadoc and him were, by their people's reckoning the tallest of their kind, measuring four and a half feet. But this beautiful female creature laying so soundly on his floor was no hobbit lass, but a woman, two years his senior, in Men terms of age, widowed for four years and more experienced in love than he ever was. And soon, if he wasn't mistaken, to cause him a boatload of trouble.

He watched her stir again, this time her eyes fluttering open, her dark green-grey eyes consuming him. He smiled, feeling very foolish indeed, hoping that he appeared anything but a heart-struck young lover he was sure she'd had or worse yet, a sorry excuse for what he supposed a woman would want in a man. Someone tall and stern with a high bearing and vast knowledge, someone like Aragorn, Faramir…or Éomer, he thought as his mind began fervently to list Men of that bearing that he thought would appeal. Not an overgrown Halfling, with more taste for a good hearty meal than a book of lore. Not to mention the feet. He hadn't dared ask what she thought of them. In all his travels he had not once heard of one mix-raced union within Hobbit customs. Oh he knew of Elves and Men unions, but never had Hobbits breed with any other race but their own. Until this morning.

The thought made him flush, feeling he should be ashamed, but all he could feel was quick fluttering in his chest as he felt himself go red. Oh what a sight he was sure he was. Barely taller than a young boy by her standards, turning as red as a beet, and grinning from ear to ear like a love-struck fool.

She shook her head slightly as she looked up at him. Levering on her elbows, she rose quickly, kissing him on the mouth, taking him completely off guard. Startled he felt her pull him down beside her, nestling against him as well she could. He let her kiss him again, sighing as she released him and settled herself against him. He held her a moment, wallowing in amazement why he had never taken notice of females of any kind before now and what they could offer. Before he had time to stop and think, he blurted out a rather burning question on his mind.

'Ah, excuse me Kiearâ, love, if you don't mind the term of course, uh, well, I'm rather stumped as to how we found ourselves,' he beckoned to himself and her, 'in this current situation?'

He was not sure what he meant and immediately felt incredibly foolish for asking, since it was quite clear as to _how _it had happened. In his uncommonly gracious way, he had taken her back with him.

Over the last years since he had met her, he had been waiting anxiously to see her again, despite the near improbability of it and despite the small part of his heart that had berated him for his nonsense. For truly, what could he have been to her, other than a fleeting fancy in a war-torn world? And yet peace had come and the shadow had passed and here she was.

Her melodious laugh interrupted his trailing thoughts, as she answered his question.

'Oh Peregrin, I don't know why any better than you my darling.'

He felt himself blush again at such a term.

Her face grew hard for a moment, her eyes slightly glistening. Softly she whispered, 'I don't know why, but I'm taking it for what it's worth.'

He was startled by her sudden change and the seriousness in her eyes as she stared at him. But it wasn't a cold look in her eyes, it was rather warm but for the determination she wore now. Seeming to realize she had startled him, Kiearâ sighed.

'Ah Pippin, I'm sorry. I'm just…over-exhausted I suppose.' She bit her lip as though contemplating something.

Drawing him closer to her, she rested her chin on his shoulders.

'Your people, the other Hobbits…they won't like this will they?'

Pulling her tighter to him, he held her as well as he could, feeling a sudden protectiveness for her, as if by holding her he could somehow ward off the inevitable criticism of his people.

'No I'm sure they won't,' he said honestly. 'Hobbits don't really have much to do with you Big Folk.'

As soon as he had said it he wished he hadn't. Ah, what a fool he was turning out to be. Falling so hard for a woman he barely knew and now practically insulting her to her face. She looked at him; her eyes sad, as if he had driven a sword between them.

'Ah excuse me; I don't know what I'm saying. I—I've never been…much like this…or, that is, shown much interest—not that I'm not—that is…I mean interest in you. I don't know why someone wouldn't want you or why you'd—'he stopped short, horrified at the complete utter nonsense he had just sprouted off.

Her face appeared stern but her eyes twinkled slightly.

'Or why I'd want a Halfling like you?'

He nodded.

He knew he had just been thinking the exact same thing but something in her wording offended him slightly. And hurt him tremendously.

'Well, let's see, how about he's young, and varied, and quite an oddity among his own people. No to mention handsome, in a Hobbitish way, with beautiful eyes and an interesting manner and an exciting appetite.' She raised an eyebrow. 'Does that answer your question?'

'Yes,' he said, 'that and many.'

He felt a weight lift off at her words. So he was, miraculously, what she wanted. And she was, without a doubt, completely what he wanted. Maybe it would be all right in the end. After all, the Elves had let their female kind marry into the house of Man. After all Hobbits and Men were much closer than any other races. Yes, perhaps it would be all right.

As if having a mind as to where his thoughts were going she grinned, rubbing her cheek against his, kissing his earlobes gently.

He felt himself squirm, much to his dismay, as though he wanted to be rid of her. But he didn't want that. No not at all. But she just smiled at him with such an odd expression in her eyes it touched his heart and made him want to weep for joy.

Overcome by an unknown emotion, he flung his arms round her slender shoulders, kissing her with as much passion as he had used the night before.

He hadn't known he had had such a passion for such things. Yet here he was, without so much as a cup of tea, with a beautiful woman, of the race of Men no less, in his arms and as far as he was concerned he'd prefer to keep it that way if he could. He'd do anything he could to keep her with him. Truly he would.

§

Meriadoc was beginning to worry. It was half past noon and Pippin still hadn't arrived. He knew there was no way his cousin could have forgotten. They had been meeting everyday for five years now at the Green Dragon right at noon.

Puzzled, Merry went to ask the barman if perhaps he had seen Pippin and he, himself had missed his friend. Seems funny though, he thought to himself. He would have known for sure if Pippin came by. He was rather hard to miss…

§

Without waiting for an answer Merry broke the door in, rushing without thinking into Pippin's room.

'Merry!'

Pippin's voice sounded shocked, offended, and embarrassed all at once startling Merry for a moment. He stopped in his tracks.

Burning red, Pippin yelled up at him, 'Merry what are you doing?!?'

'I ah, I thought…I mean you were late…' he let it hang as his mind began to register what he saw. There was Pippin; mad as hell and as red as could be wrapped tightly, it appeared, in a quilt with an obviously female kind. Merry had a sinking feeling about all this.

'Ah Pippin, I'm…sorry.'

He tried to avert his eyes, but there was something not quite right about the lady beside his friend. With a grace that surprised him, Pippin's apparent new lady "friend" wrapped a cloak around her as she rose without so much as flash of skin. Merry's eyes widened as she rose, stretching to her full height, trying as not to hit her head on the ceiling. She bent down toward a flustered Pippin, seeming to whisper something to him before kissing him on the cheek. Even Merry could tell Pippin was smitten. As she turned to go, Pippin blurted out, rather unobtrusively.

'Wait Kiearâ. Stay, please.'

She seemed puzzled then nodded settling down near Pippin.

Merry took a tentative step forward. 'Pippin…she's…how did…?'

'I let her in.'

Merry was startled.

'But you broke the King's command.' Pippin shifted uncomfortably. 'And for what? A woman? One night of passion with a woman?'

Pippin's eyes flashed for a moment, as he gazed up rather unemotionally at his cousin. Merry was startled at the seriousness he saw in his gaze. He also felt rather guilty about the whole situation. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with a woman, per-se, but what did a Hobbit have to do with one of the race of Men? He felt it would never work out. Why, mostly everyone in the Shire would think Pippin completely mad to have willingly bedded with one of another race. And that was the problem. Pippin had wanted this, that much was clear. Pippin loved her, whoever she was. And it broke his heart.

'Look Pippin,' Merry began slowly, 'try and see this logically. No one in the Shire will accept this.'

'Nonsense,' said Pippin. 'They won't have to. As long as you don't tell them.'

Merry was startled. Though whom would he tell? He had friends, naturally of course, thought ever since his return from the south there had been a slight falling out. Nothing extreme, but enough that he noticed sometimes. There were some things that they could just not understand. Not even Pippin for that matter. He had faced death, five years hence, on the faraway plain of Pelennor, stabbing it from behind for the sake of his fallen liege's sister-daughter, the fair Éowyn. He had thought he would die that day, but he was healed and the memory of it hung over him like a shadow he could never truly dismiss.

He shook his head, focusing again on Pippin and the current events.

'Pippin, please listen to me.' Merry said, trying to sound urgent.

Pippin scowled up at his friend, interrupting

'No Merry, I don't think I will. I don't think you understand the situation completely. You see I met Kiearâ here, down in Gondor. You remember don't you?' His eyes looked pleading for a moment. 'The night before the siege to be exact. I haven't seen her since. And I missed her very much the last few years. So don't you tell me what I should do. You have no idea what it's been like for me.'

Merry was beginning to feel he shocked too readily. Though he was amazed at what Pippin had revealed to him with that little speech of his. Merry knew for sure he loved her. There was no question there. Though he wondered if Pippin knew.

'Pippin,' he began cautiously, 'don't you see?' He paused. 'You love her and it'll surely be doomed.' Oh, he hated himself for saying that but it was the truth.

Pippin seemed taken aback.

'That's…that's absurd. How dare you barge into my house like and—and—' His anger was beginning to falter. 'Ah, Merry, you're such a nuisance sometimes.'

Merry grinned slightly, and then sobered.

'Just think on it a bit. Please Pippin.' Without waiting for a response he left the room, quietly making his way out.

§

Pippin couldn't bear to look at Kiearâ. She was standing so calmly, so steadily, as though contemplating very hard, what Merry had just said. He sighed. Rising he moved to her side, wrapping the quilt around him.

'I'm sorry… about Merry I mean. What he said.'

She turned to look at him, a smile forming on her face as she leaned down a bit toward him.

'I wouldn't worry too much, Pip darling. He won't tell anyone.'

'Oh, I know that.' He said feeling rather startled. 'It's just…'he said quietly as he wrapped his arm around her waist, absently holding her to him. He paused unsure of what to say or how to continue.

Oh he loved her. Merry's words had rung true though he had denied them at the time. He loved her with such a depth it almost frightened him. Hobbits weren't generally creatures where true love ran strong. Oh, they loved, but their love was for food, pipe-weed, decent company and good friends to talk to. Not a love for the companionship and company of a woman that somehow, strangely, shocked and moved him deeper than he had known.

She turned in his arms, as though waiting. When he didn't say anything she sighed moving away from him, staring silently out a window. Confused, Pippin moved beside her again, taking her hand.

'Kiearâ, love, what's wrong?'

She sighed again. Continuing to stare out the window she murmured. 'Ah, Pippin, my dearest love, I don't think I've ever felt this way before. It's so much more than a feeling. It's practically alive, it breathes, and burns, and moves all on it own. It consumes me sometimes. I think…perhaps Merry was right.' She hung her head, seeming to lose hope.

Grasping her hands tightly, he pulled her to him. Whispering fiercely he said. 'No Merry can't be right. He doesn't know what it is. He… doesn't know what it feels like.'

Her eyes seemed to bore into his, filling his mind with such a wave of wonder and joy that he thought he'd weep. Then suddenly she smiled, laughing she pulled him into a tight embrace hugging him closely. He gasped, startled, than feeling inspired, he kissed her hotly on the mouth, holding her to him as she struggled faintly in his grasp, her eyes laughing as they fell down together in the old heap of blankets near the end of his bed.

§

Pippin stared idly up at the ceiling tracing patterns in the wood with his eyes. Next to him Kiearâ lounged by his side seeming to contemplate hard on something. Seeming puzzled she turned to him. Oh, how he loved to watch her. It seemed ages since Merry had been here, that confrontation quite forgotten on his part.

'Pippin,' she paused, 'what did Merry mean by the 'King's command'? That you broke it, I mean.'

Startled, Pippin sat up again fiddling with the old blankets they had been using. He was silent a moment.

'Well, the truth is, Aragorn has this law in the making, so to speak, which will prohibit anyone of the race of Men to enter the Shire without Aragorn's say so. The only reason Merry and I know about it is because Aragorn is, after all, a dear old friend.'

'Oh.'

To reassure her from the slight expression of uncertainly and almost horror he thought he saw reflected in her eyes, he continued.

'Of course it doesn't apply and he might not do it. Some folk would be rather anxious for it here in the Shire, I'm sure. If they knew about it and all that I mean. Most hobbits would welcome the idea.'

'Would you?' she asked softly, almost warily, as though a part of her dreaded the answer.

'Of course not.' He replied matter of factly.

She seemed taken aback. Staring, puzzled at him, she asked.

'Why not?'

It was his turn to feel taken aback.

'Why Kiearâ, I would never want to do anything that could force me to lose you. I haven't seen you in so long.' Diverting his gaze from hers he said, more softy than before. 'I've missed you Kiearâ.'

Almost shyly, he glanced back up her and saw her smiling at him, her eyes so bright he couldn't help but smile back and then kiss her gently on the mouth. She didn't move away or seem at all surprised. Laying his head delicately against her, he heard her whisper.

'I've missed you too Pippin. I know I won't ever have to be alone.'

Smiling, she bent down toward him kissing him sweetly.


	2. Gondor, SR 1419

_Gondor, S.R 1419_

Pippin had never remembered feeling so lonely before. He thought Gondor was a wonderful city but he'd prefer some company, someone to talk to. He especially missed Merry, who at least had been a constant companion until now. And he was beginning to wonder where Gandalf was. He hadn't seen him since the night after the, in Pippin's opinion, ordeal questioning by the Steward Denethor. Puzzling it over, he lay down to rest and wait, when something caught his eye by the windowsill.

§

Cautiously Pippin peered into what appeared to be a run down garden of some kind. As he crept quietly in he took note of the worn tower of stone near the middle, surrounded by small trees with wispy branches hanging about. The entire place seemed bathed in darkness. But not really a bad kind, he realized. It was rather comforting. The night and the stars softened the sharp edges of the barbed fence around and made the stone shimmer like silver.

Getting a good look around, he couldn't see a single person here. Perhaps he had misread the letter. At the thought he felt inside his coat for the small crumpled up letter. He had found it on his windowsill, folded neatly as though waiting patiently just for him. And for the life of him, he couldn't understand why he had agreed. Or, that is, he corrected himself, why he had come. He didn't dare contemplate what Gandalf would say or even think. He couldn't afford another mistake. Pippin was sure Gandalf wouldn't stand for it. Then why was he here? He sighed, unable to answer himself.

'Peregrin?'

Startled he spun around to face the owner of the voice. He was surprised that one of the race of Men, for he assumed that they were judging by the other's height, could have crept so quietly up on him without his knowledge.

The figure wore a heavy cloak and did not appear much taller than him. About a head taller he averaged. Moving slightly closer to the figure he said, 'Yes, I'm Peregrin. And who are you?'

He thought he saw the figure smile slightly.

'My name is Kiearâ.' The voice was softer than he had anticipated, and much sweeter, he was surprised to note. With a quick sweep of the figure's hand, they removed their hood.

Pippin nearly choked he was so startled. It was a woman. She was a woman. With deep set eyes, dark and consuming, with the richest shade of green, covered by a grey shadow reflected in the moonlight; hair an almost dusty color with brown and blacks intertwined together in long, thick tresses falling like starlight around her shoulders. Pippin involuntarily took a step back, shocked to his core at her appearance, and that he should think it so grand to begin with.

Tilting her head, Kiearâ looked at him seeming puzzled. Pippin shook his head, telling himself it was just the night and wondering intensely what he appeared like to her.

'Were you the one who sent me this?' He held out the crumpled letter in his hand, showing it to her.

She peered down at it, studying it. She looked confused. He felt his heart flutter. Perhaps she had not sent it to him. He hoped she hadn't. He couldn't bear to think that such a lovely creature would send him a note asking to meet him. It scared him almost as much as her appearance had shocked him. He didn't know why. The thought made him uncomfortable.

Straightening up, she murmured, 'Yes.'

'You did?' he squeaked out.

She nodded quietly. Feeling ashamed he leaned in toward her as close as he dared.

'It's not you…not really…it's just…' he paused, 'the thought that you sent this is rather frightening.'

She seemed startled. 'Why?'

'I don't…know.' He was feeling rather flustered. He wished she would move away a bit more. As though catching his thought, she moved toward the tower settling down in the damp grass beside it. She beckoned for him to come. Casting his unease away, he made his way to her side.

§

Kiearâ waited patiently for Pippin to join her in the grey green grass shaded nicely by the ruined tower, whose forgotten garden this was. She had always liked to come here when she was younger, creating thousands of imaginary stories and adventures. Her aunt Gîleran had told her and her younger sister old tales, passed down through her family's generations since Anaríon had become King of Gondor, so very long ago. The tales of creatures half the size of men and wandering tree-herders of the woods.

And now, here she was, with a real folk story character. A Halfling. Though it wasn't the way she had imagined it would be. She had thought that it would have been more…exciting in some way. But really, all she wanted was to see him. It was as if all those silly dreams of hers when she had been younger really didn't matter. Here was a living being, not some fictitious story character told to her to entertain. Here was a Halfling.

She sighed mentally watching him approach cautiously. He looked so young, at least in terms of her people. But she had the feeling he was young, even by his own peoples' standards. She wanted to smile for him to reassure him that she truly just wanted to meet him, talk to him. But she had seen the way he had reacted before. She was a little unsure what she had done that had unsettled him so much. Surely it could not just have been how she looked, could it? She had never prided herself on her exquisite good looks, yet she knew she was far from hideous.

Puzzling it over, she unable to help but notice the way he moved, so quietly and the way his hair curled around his head, looking like dark gold in the moonlight, light that shone off his face, making his eyes shine like stars. She smiled. She couldn't help herself. His looks moved her, which took her by surprise. Had she done the same to him?

'What?' He asked as he settled down next to her.

Startled, she looked at him in surprise. 'Hm?'

Pouting, he said, 'You smiled. What did you smile about?'

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep him from seeing her smile spread, though she doubted it did much good.

He grinned tentatively at her.

She wondered if he was always like this around women. Though if he was as young as she thought she had a hunch he had never really paid much attention. She pondered if she should be flattered by his aroused interest.

'I was just thinking about how I used to come here when I was younger.' She answered in regards to his question.

'Oh!' his eyes brightened as though a light had just dawned on him. 'So you're from Gondor then?'

She laughed. She couldn't help herself. The tone of his voice, with that brightening of his eyes, warmed her heart and she just had to laugh, the entire situation was just too… pleasant not to.

He seemed offended by her sudden laughter. Shaking her head, she gasped out, 'Oh, it isn't you Peregrin…just the way…you…' she grinned at him. 'Oh, I'm sorry I'm being rude, but you were just utterly delightful.'

'Oh.'

There seemed as if there was something on his mind, lingering there, from the quiet way he spoke. She could almost sense it as if it was in the air, scented in the dark night, beneath the shadow.

'What it is?'

His eyes trailed upward to meet her own, the lids half shaded. He gave a small smile. 'It's just…I thought that all the refugees, all the women and children, had been seen away, to the south, thereabout.' he stammered.

She nodded in answer.

'I came after. I had been away up north and by the time I had returned the last wagons had left. My…sister and mother had already left as well.'

Tilting his head in inquiry, she laughed gently. 'I aid a friend in his recording--'

'That was not what I was thinking.'

His startled voice took her by surprise. Staring at him with wide eyes, she asked curiously, 'Then what?'

'I was…' He seemed embarrassed and uncomfortable again. Letting his eyes roam around the weedy patch of grass and garden, she heard him mumble, 'was that all the family you have? You seem…as if you would have more…'

Sensing the train of his thoughts, though puzzled by it, she said, 'That is all. I had a husband once, and we had no children. He died a few years back.' A thin smile stretched across Kiearâ's face. 'Though he never seemed quite as curious as you.

He seemed flattered, yet unsettled again. Trying to put him at ease, guessing that that lovely reaction she had seen earlier was probably his general atmosphere, she stretched out, relaxing.

'What's it like where you're from?'

Taken off guard, Peregrin was quiet a moment, before saying, 'It's lovely there. That is, the Shire is. That's what we call it, I mean. We keep to ourselves rather a lot, though,' here he chuckled slightly, 'my family has been known to be a bit too…adventuresome for the general "well-to-do" hobbit. In fact--'

§

They were both silent a moment. The silence seemed so odd. Pippin assumed it was due to the way they had been talking for so long it seemed like, maybe even hours. He had never been so open with anyone before. He didn't, he couldn't, understand why he had been so frightened of her. Though, now that he thought about it he realized that it was just her appearance that startled him and that it should startle him was what frightened him. But she was marvelous company. Almost better than Merry in some aspects.

He sighed feeling content with the events and his thoughts, it all seeming to be just the way it should. She grinned, sighing as contently as he had as she leaned down near him resting her head against his shoulder. He stiffened a moment, than feeling foolish relaxed, holding her gingerly in his arms.

Before he knew what he was doing he was stroking her dark hair gently, watching it shimmer in the moonlight. Feeling his touch her eyes flashed open, as she moved to peer up into his eyes not disrupting the hold he had on her. She smiled up at him almost wearily. He smiled back, feeling his heart flutter as he gazed at her.

Coughing slightly, Pippin murmured, trying to somehow take a step back from where they had been going, though he wasn't too clear what that was, and back on to more comfortable topics, such as the Shire or Gondor. Anything else, it didn't matter as long as it was something else.

'Ah, Kiearâ, I still don't understand why you wanted to see me out of every one in Gondor?'

Secretly he was appalled at what he had said. How was that supposed to help his situation? Though a small part of him wondered what it was he thought he wanted to fix.

She shrugged, still in his arms. She peered up at the sky a moment. Returning her gaze to his own, she said, 'Because you sparked my interest. More than any native of Gondor ever did.'

Unwittingly he asked, 'Even your husband?'

Seeming confused she rose out his arms. Standing she moved near one of the hedges by the fence staring forlornly up at the sky. Feeling he had been awfully rude, Pippin rose after her, moving silently beside her. He began to tell her he was sorry for his behavior when she said instead.

'Yes even my husband. My late husband.' She added. 'You seemed different from everyone else.'

'Well, I am a hobbit.' He said indignantly.

Grinning, she looked down at him.

'Oh really?' She teased, 'I hadn't noticed.'

He wasn't sure if that was a joke or an insult. Shaking her head, she kneeled down in front of him, having to look up at him sighing.

'It's more than that. You're so much more than any one I've ever known or met, whether man, or elf, or dwarf, or,' she added after a pause, 'hobbit.'

He was quite startled, not to mention flattered. Smiling, thoroughly happy with what she had said, he took her hands in his saying softly.

'You didn't quite spark my interest, but you sparked something in me. Or at least your looks did. And the more I talked to you the larger the spark grew.'

To his surprise and delight she appeared flustered by his little speech.

'Pippin, I—'

She stopped, almost as though she had forgotten was she was going to say. She sighed again, seeming sad. Not wanting his new companion to be sad, Pippin took her in his arms again, trying to somehow comfort her. She leaned against him, seeming as content as before. She looked like she wanted to say something, though she didn't know what it was. Oh how he could relate. He felt as if he had a million things to get off his chest but he didn't have half a clue as to what any of them were.

Feeling frustrated he pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. He felt her touch his face gently with her hand. Peering up he saw her eyes were so close to his, so beautiful, so sad. Wanting something, but not knowing what it was he opened his mouth but no sound came out. He sighed. Then to his surprise and wonderment he felt her kiss him gently on the cheek. He thought his heart had skipped a beat. He held her tighter, not knowing what to think or do. A part of him wanted to push her away, but the other wanted to feel her smooth lips again, caressing his skin. As though sensing his dilemma, she said.

'I think that's enough for tonight, don't you think Master Took.'

Without waiting for an answer she rose to her feet. She smiled almost sadly down at him. Then she turned to go. Struck by her comment and her decisive action, he caught up to her offering her his arm.

'It's the least I can do.' He said apologetically feeling he had been rude enough these last few moments, and he truly wanted to make up for it.

'Oh Pippin, you've done more than enough,' she whispered, her voice dry. But she took his arm anyway, almost gratefully, as he escorted her out of the garden.

§

Once Pippin had her to her home, or at least to a place where she had a hunch he thought she'd be safe he left, leaving slowly, seeming as cautious as he had when she had first seen him. A small part of her wanted to ask him back, to stay just a little longer, to hold her just a little longer, but she knew he had something more important that was to come then tending to a heart struck young widow.

Sighing she let herself in, going straight to bed. Flinging herself down on the woven sheets, she stared up at the ceiling. Folding her hands under her head, she contemplated this…Pippin, as he called himself. Peregrin. Peregrin Took.

She wasn't sure what to think of him. He was certainly completely different than anyone she had ever met in the few travels she had undergone in the past.

Musing to herself she remembered how upset her mother had been when she had become friendly with the recorder and translator Vërtainir. There had been all these rumors around him and his life style, her mother had been happy to point out. Now she could understand a bit more why perhaps her mother had reacted the way she had, but at the time, Kiearâ had thought her mother too clinging and in the end that protective atmosphere was what drove her to befriend Vërtainir in the first place.

Vërtainir really was an amazing man. Though he had never been out of the city, as far as she knew he had an uncanny way of describing the world in extreme detail. In spite of his handicap, or maybe because of it, he was always alive with news and life. He wasn't technically crippled, but it took far more strength for him to move around then was required of an average person than he let on. He had never really told her what had happened to him to cause this disability of his, though she had her hunches as always.

Struck suddenly, she realized she actually knew more about this Pippin than she did about her own partner. Musing it over, she rolled over on to her stomach, wondering idly what Pippin was doing right now.

She didn't know what to think of him. He…meant something to her. Or at least…she thought that he could mean something to her. Oh, she had loved her husband, but it had never…it had always been more friendly love than anything else had. She wasn't sure what it was she felt for Pippin. She thought maybe…

Sighing, she rose for her bed, staring out the window at the rising sun, thinking of Pippin, since it seemed unlikely that her heart would let her think of anyone else.


	3. Gondor, SR 1430

A/N: _For a while I had thought to add a new chapter in-between here but and the last but...shrug It's not getting written so I'm going with the way I originally wrote it._

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Gondor, S.R. 1430

'Mother! Mama!' a voiced called, disrupting the comforting silence of the sunned out room.

Turning in response to the call Kiearâ was tackled by a small form, clinging to her waist as she sat stunned in a wooden chair near the opened window. She always liked to spend her time that way. She could work on a new travel manuscript or something else perhaps and still enjoy the fresh air. Smiling after a moment, she patted his head as he stared up at her, his eyes bright with annoyance. Resting his small chin on her knee he peered up at her.

'Whatcha working on Mother?' he asked, as though forgetting his previous question.

Grinning she leaned down to him, rubbing noses with him saying nothing other than, 'Work. Just work Kellehgêr, dear.'

Sighing, he climbed into her lap.

'Don't mind if I do?' she heard him mutter. She laughed. No she didn't mind. And he knew so. Putting aside her writing she held him more securely and asked, 'What was it that brought you here in such a hurry?'

He shrugged seeming unsure of the response he would get from her. She shrugged back in response. Amused by his silent approach, she hugged him a moment as he struggled faintly in annoyance.

'Come now, you didn't just come here to torment your mother now did you?' She raised an eyebrow as though suspicious suddenly. 'Did you?'

When he didn't answer, she tickled him gently under the chin, watching him laugh the way Pippin had when she had last seen him. Grinning warily at her, he said, 'Oh don't be silly mother, I didn't come to see you!'

Slightly engaged by that response Kiearâ murmured under her breath.

'I'm so flattered dear…'

Kelleghêr just giggled, jumping up and down on her lap. Steadying him a bit more she continued to wait. After taking a couple deep breaths, which she was sure was to prepare himself, for the telling of his shocking or intense news that he had either discovered or learned today while out playing.

She sighed. She often wished that things would come easier for him. He was much more…mature in some ways than the other children his age. He was much better mannered, but at the same time, more likely to ask what most children might consider improper questions at perhaps improper times. He was never afraid to say what he thought. Though he was always a treat to be around, judging by his many friends, he had little in common with them, in terms of similar mind set. He was stubborn for a five-year-old! It amazed her sometimes, though no matter what he did, she always thought it was a marvel. Her mother had warned her not to be too lenient to a boy as rambunctious as Kellehgêr was, but she couldn't help it really, he was just being himself after all. How could she restrain that? How absurd…

After composing himself properly, he finally opened his mouth, then shut it. He looked thoughtful a moment, his blue eyes pondering. He tugged on her sleeve.

'Mama? Is it all right if I ask you something?'

Smiling, she hugged him again.

'Of course it is, dear. That's why you're here isn't it?'

He nodded slowly.

She continued to wait. As she waited, she watched him weigh the question carefully in his mind, sizing it up so to speak. Vërtainir had taught Kelleghêr that words were power and had to be used just right. He seemed to take Vërtainir very seriously much to Kiearâ's surprise sometimes. Finally, he blurted it out, apparently deciding that now was the right time to ask this particular question.

'Mother who…I mean I did have a father didn't I?'

Taken off guard by the question, Kiearâ just blinked and nodded rather numbly.

'Well…you see we were playing this game you see…'

Even his words were mature for the average five-year-old, she mused to herself as her son continued on.

'I suppose what I'm asking is really…well _who _is he? Is he dead? Is that it? Why don't you ever talk about it? Whatever happened?'

His questions washed over her, hitting her like a cold, icy wave making her shiver inside and out. She had…tried not to think of it. She was better for it. For her lack of remembering. It was better not to remember sometimes, though sometimes it was all she had to keep on smiling. She tilted her head slightly remembering it all.

'Mother?'

Kelleghêr's worried voice echoed in her mind. Turning her attention back to him, she saw him looking up at her with an expression between worried and bemusement on his face.

'What is it Mother? Is it bad? Is that it? Was he a bad man?'

Kiearâ blinked.

'No. No, he wasn't. He was wonderful.'

Kelleghêr looked puzzled. Watching her curiously he asked, 'Then why isn't he here?'

Kiearâ sighed.

'He couldn't come. He wasn't allowed.'


	4. Gondor, SR 1425

§

_Gondor, S.R. 1425_

Kiearâ fumbled with a fringe on her sleeve. She had never been summoned before the King. Or, she corrected herself, the new King. She had always felt obstinate about keeping a good order of proper events of the society around her in her head. That's something Vërtainir had taught her. It was always a good idea to keep a proper record he had said and she agreed with him.

Idly she wondered where Pippin had gotten to lately. She hadn't seen him since she had been summoned back to Gondor by Vërtainir claiming that he needed her help. She had been happy to oblige. The trip from the north to Gondor had improved much more since Aragorn had become King. It took much less time and if she was right about the length of this hearsay meeting, she could be back up north in under a month. That was really the only reason she had left. It was the ease of travel that did it. She never would have left Pippin so quickly if the travel north took as long as it used to.

In an effort to waste the time she studied her surroundings…

To her surprise she found her eyes rested on Aragorn. She hadn't noticed him come in. She tried to straighten up a bit as he approached though she wasn't sure why she felt she had to. Some thing in his eyes made her uneasy.

Standing near to her but no too close, he seemed to wait a moment, then beckoned her a ways down the hallway she had previously been studying.

Puzzled, she followed him slowly. The uneasiness in her began to grow like a weed, taking root in her stomach til it stretched her entire body. She felt a wave of worriness began to sway in her. It was as if she had done something wrong. Had she? Nothing that she was aware of… Shaking her head Kiearâ tried to clear mind as though in an attempt to calm herself. And cut out that horrid "root", she brooded silently to herself.

As they entered one of the many rooms, Kiearâ was startled to note there was already someone in there.

The figure was sitting in such a way; relaxed against one of the stone chairs that they couldn't have seen her and Aragorn enter only moments before. She paused. Something made her stop as she studied what she could see of her acquaintance at this surprise meeting. They seemed far too young for Aragorn to have summoned at so late an hour or else incredibly short for a Man. Kiearâ choked down uneasiness as something familiar, like a memory, began to stir inside her. She watched the figure squirm absently, the candlelight reflecting off his reddish partway-gold locks. Her heart gave a wrench as she realized suddenly who sat before her. Her worry changed to a small panic.

'Pippin.' She moaned instantly without thinking.

Spinning around in surprise, Pippin turned to face his King and her.

'Kiearâ!' he gasped, seeming as stunned as she did.

Almost immediately his eyes shifted suddenly to Aragorn as he had a seat, with a strange mixture of emotions in his eyes. Kiearâ was startled to realize that one was suspicion. She had never seen Pippin act this way. He almost seemed to believe that he had been betrayed in some way. Feeling that perhaps she should sit down she settled on placing herself somewhere between Pippin and Aragorn. The silence hung around them like dust.

Clearing his throat Aragorn began.

'I see you know each other.'

Pippin just glared.

Kiearâ glanced sideways at Pippin. Coughing slightly, she shrugged in response to Aragorn's question.

'I suppose so…'

Aragorn raised an eyebrow.

'You do?'

She supposed he wasn't amused, not that she had been trying of course. She wasn't sure what to say. What in the world was he trying to discover?

Suddenly Pippin spoke up, rather rudely she thought.

'Come off it Strider, what do you want? What has it got to do with Kiearâ and me?'

Aragorn visibly cringed at that, then composed himself right away sighing heavily.

Kiearâ hadn't realized kings were so jumpy sometimes. Still. What had Pippin meant? Though now that she thought of it she was beginning to feel a tad suspicious herself. How had Aragorn known to get them both here? There was no way in could be coincidence. Not the way he seemed to be acting toward them both. What business was it of his to get into their lives like this, as he almost seemed to be doing? And just what did he know? And if knew something how had he ever discovered it?

She watched Aragorn warily, as though she didn't quite trust, which she wasn't quite sure she did anymore anyway.

§

Aragorn sighed. It filled the silence of the room. Neither Pippin, nor her had said anything. Aragorn seemed to believe _he _was over burdened with something. She dreaded to know what it was…

'Pippin,' he paused, 'I have heard rumors…from up north. They say that you broke my order.'

'But that hasn't been--' Pippin began, anger and offense clouding his voice. Aragorn promptly ignored him.

'And brought a woman into the Shire, the very thing the order was made to prevent.'

Kiearâ opened her mouth to protest, but Aragorn continued on, not giving her a chance to get a word in.

'There are other rumors also…and judging by your responses I might believe them.'

Kiearâ's eyes widened in shock. How could he be saying that? What did he have, spies living up there? What kind of king was he? Pippin's face reddened as he glared with such intensity at Aragorn that the King faltered for a moment. Aragorn blinked suddenly as though that would settle him down. He seemed just a tad unsure suddenly. He glanced wearily up, gazing toward a high window in the room they were sitting in. Through it the moon could be seen, it's pale beams of light shining through the open window. As though seeing something in the light that moved him Aragorn sighed, passing a hand over his eyes.

'Pippin forgive me, but I don't have a choice.' He murmured his voice thick with some untold emotion.

'Of course you do! You're the king!'

'No!'

He yelled it as he banged his fist loudly on the table before them, taking Pippin and her both by surprise. Blinking again Aragorn shook his dark mass of hair. They were all silent a moment, being bathed in the soft light of the full moon as it watched the three of them as though with a mind of it's own.

Suddenly without warning, Aragorn spoke again. He spoke calmly.

'Peregrin for disobeying me, I banish you from Gondor for ten years.'

Pippin gaped. Kiearâ sat stunned. What was he saying? Ten years?

Without a glance in their direction, Aragorn rose with an amazing grace and left them in silence.

§

She heard Pippin sigh wearily suddenly. Turning in surprise in her chair, she spun to face him, her gaze resting on his tilted down head. She watched him a moment, running a finger idly through a dark strand of hair.

Gazing upward she watched the moon shine through the small window near the ceiling. She heard herself sigh, as though releasing some unknown strain that had been building up ever since she had arrived.

Pippin must have heard, but she wondered how he couldn't have heard her in this small chamber. He moved from his seat and down near her side. Kiearâ glanced down at him as he settled down next to her, taking the chair beside her. He leaned against the stone chair that seemed too big for his smaller stature.

'Kiearâ.'

She watched him a moment.

'Yes, Pippin?'

He sighed again. Taking her hand in his, he held it against his face and looked up at her, his bright eyes darkened by the night.

'Kiearâ. I know Aragorn didn't mean it.'

She was a little stunned by him saying that. Though she thought he was right. Aragorn hadn't seemed happy at all about his decision.

'But Pippin,' she paused. 'How could he have known those things? I'm not saying he wanted to do it,' she added quickly, 'but that it just seems…odd, don't you think?'

Pippin nodded, agreeing with her.

'You're right there Kiearâ. I'm not sure either. I suppose he's trying his hardest and he's probably horribly afraid to make a mistake, or at least I would be if I were him anyway.'

She nodded. She reached out to hold her hand against his, resting it gently against his. He smiled at her, slowly at first, than with more sincerity as she leaned in near him.

'You know Pippin, Aragorn's decision wasn't all that bad after all…'

Pippin raised an eyebrow looking intrigued bending toward her, his eyes intent, yet he didn't say a word, just waited curiously for her to continue.

She grinned at him, kissing him suddenly, gently, on the mouth, watching with pleasure his eyes widen in astonishment. She laughed delicately leaning into his arms across the small space between their two chairs.

'He never said I couldn't leave Gondor Pip.'

He blinked. Then he laughed, hugged her, and pulled her to him, kissing her soundly.

She chuckled quietly, murmuring.

'I guess you hadn't noticed that? Your friend Aragorn isn't so bad.'

'Of course he isn't.' Pippin responded, grinning down at her, now that she lay with her head in his lap, slightly propped up in his arms. She smiled at him as he bent down to kiss her again.

§

Kiearâ woke the next morning early, the sun's first rays warming her face. She smiled. Her and Pippin had planned on leaving today. Well, he was at least. He doesn't have a choice she thought wryly, remembering the night before. She yawned, stretching her arms out as she lay there in the sun's golden rays. They had decided on having her leave Gondor an hour after he did, since they had agreed that Aragorn might not want them to be seen leaving at precisely the same time.

A part of her thought for a moment that she should be more upset with Pippin's banishment, but truly she couldn't fine much fault with Aragorn, and besides she loved it up there, up near the Shire much more than she ever had in Gondor.

Feeling settled she rose from her bed idly watching her sun lighted room.

§

Kiearâ was shocked. Or else furious. She hadn't quite decided yet. The guards at the first Gate would not let her pass. They claimed that they had had orders not to let someone of her description pass the city Gates.

'How do you know it's me the King spoke of?' She retorted angrily.

Getting fed up on his part the guard answered sharply, 'How many women do we have of such small stature?'

She glared at him for a moment than stormed off to go find Aragorn if he wasn't too busy as she had the strange suspicion he would be.

§

Sulking, Kiearâ glared at the fire in her mother's house. She was staying with her mother in a silent protest against Aragorn's command that she stay in the city for at least one year.

Her mother fussed about her daughter as though she believed it was her duty to worry heedlessly about her.

Kiearâ, much too annoyed to venture any kind of considerate response in light of the circumstances, growled slightly at her mother.

Her mother arched an eyebrow at Kiearâ's sullen moodiness but said nothing, though seemed to be surveying her daughter in some peculiar way. Looking sharply at her daughter, she replied, 'You haven't eaten anything for breakfast.'

'I wasn't hungry.'

'You said that yesterday.'

Kiearâ raised an eyebrow, wondering where her mother was going with this.

'I wasn't in the mood.'

'Oh really.' Now it was her mother's turn to sound vaguely annoyed. Kiearâ knew her mother could never really lose her temper, that was too beyond the "proper" role of a woman in her mother's mind.

Feeling annoyed at the interrogation Kiearâ mumbled, 'I was sick.'

Her mother looked at her in surprise as though Kiearâ had just said something scandalous.

'What is it?'

Her mother didn't respond, and her face remained calm, which was a warning hint to Kiearâ that something was seriously bothering her mother. She never acted so calm unless she was about to bust, which of course she wouldn't and never did.

'Kiearâ dear, I've seen this more than once to know a woman with child when I do.'

Kiearâ gawked at her moment in shock before the words sunk in, slowly flittering through her high grown wall of annoyance. She had been clinging so tightly to her grief; she hadn't noticed the telltale signs herself. Kiearâ suddenly felt a strangely protective feeling that spread suddenly through her as those words sunk into her consciousness and that quiet happiness filling her heart, which she had never known before. She watched the fire as she felt herself smile slightly, her mood changing. It wasn't right to say her mood had improved though her feelings had changed, more because her mind had found something better to think on than Aragorn, that she felt her feelings for Aragorn softening slightly. Perhaps it had been best after all that Aragorn's command had come when it had, and she had the strange suspicion that perhaps the King had known and had seen something that neither her or Pippin had realized…


	5. Gondor, SR 1425

_Gondor, S.R. 1425_

Idly Kiearâ ran her fingers over the fine workmanship, feeling the small carvings that had designed the old wooden table for generations it seemed to her. To her side she heard Emariara cough slightly. Kiearâ turned to glance and then watch her elder sister solemnly.

Her sister's golden brown hair was pulled back making her bright emerald eyes stand out more than usual. She was tall and slender; her face well defined with thin lips and pale lily-white skin. Kiearâ sighed.

On the other side of the table Brachet, Kiearâ's mother and Emariara's, whose looks echoed their mother's more closely than Kiearâ's, set a small pot of tea down in front of them.

The steam rose from the small pot filling the air with a sweet fragrance.

'Would you like any dear?' her mother asked. Kiearâ raised an eyebrow.

She had thought her mother had wanted to discuss this matter immediately. Marcie squirmed impatiently. Not able to stand the silence, her elder sister replied rather bluntly.

'Come now Kiearâ tell us. We're family. You can trust us.' Marcie paused a moment. 'Is mother right? If she is…' Here Marcie faltered. Shaking her golden head she blurted out. 'Tell us who did it Kiearâ!' Her eyes grew angry for a moment, a dark light shining in her green eyes.

Kiearâ didn't answer right away. Then she laughed, loud and long letting it bubble over from inside her.

'Kiearâ!' her mother gasped. It was a highly indecent sort of laugh for such a question, at least by Brachet's standards anyway.

Shaking her head Kiearâ finally looked up at them, her mother and sister, and she was smiling up at them, her eyes glowing with amusement and something else neither could place.

'Kiearâ.' Brachet said, a warning edge to her voice. If Kiearâ wasn't really with child and had been playing…well, that would be a horrible affront to their family in Brachet's mind.

Kiearâ shook her head.

'No Mother, you're right. No doubts there.' And here Kiearâ's smile widened, her eyes shining.

Marcie looked at Kiearâ with suspicion.

'And that's a good thing? Excuse me if I don't quite understand.' There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

'I just wouldn't be so happy to discover that some rather indecent act with an un-named man had produced a child when I had previously been married with no children to show from it.'

For a moment Kiearâ's eyes darkened. Then she blinked, smiled and laughed again.

Grabbing Kiearâ by the shoulder Marcie insisted. 'Kiearâ what is wrong with you?'

'He wasn't…a Man…you see…' Kiearâ sputtered out between gasps as she laughed softly in-between each phrase.

Brachet took hold of Kiearâ's hand suddenly causing Kiearâ's laughter to falter a moment. Her mother's eyes hardened as though trying to see down to her daughter's soul.

'What do you mean he wasn't a Man? What in the world was he then?'

Kiearâ looked thoughtful.

'Is. He is. He isn't dead yet.'

Marcie and her mother exchanged a glance and waited impatiently.

Kiearâ sighed again pulling her knees up to her chest. Her mind wandered back to their first night together, back up in the Shire in his home in Tookbourough. It made her smile to remember. She couldn't help it. It had been one of the single happiest times of her life.

'At least he doesn't call himself a Man, though there aren't many differences physically except for a few obvious attributes.' Kiearâ paused. She watched her sister and mother's faces. They look strained, especially her mother, Marcie on the other hand looked partly on edge more than anything else, though both appeared almost at the end of their patience. They looked as though they were beginning to get quite fed up with her.

Kiearâ coughed slightly.

'He calls himself and his kind…they call themselves actually…Hobbits. I'm sure you know what the differences are that I mentioned.'

Marcie gapped at her. Her mother looked somewhere halfway between shock and disgust. Kiearâ sighed.

'Erm,' Kiearâ grinned wryly at them. 'His name is Pippin. Peregrin Took.' She raised an eyebrow. 'You remember him? He was down here during the War of the Ring?'

Marcie was still gaping at her. Her mother coughed stiffly.

'Are you trying to tell us that this child's father was…is…a…a…Hobbit?'

Kiearâ nodded.

'Kiearâ dear,' her mother began, 'did you ever think of what it would be like for the child. There is…a possibility…of various…oddities in the child.'

Before Kiearâ could respond to that comment, Marcie blurted out.

'They're so small!'

Kiearâ stared at her as she blushed back at her younger sister in response.

Grinning, Kiearâ leaned her chin on the palm of her hand, looking slightly amused.

'Merry and him are the tallest of their kind.'

'Merry?' Her mother asked faintly.

'Meriadoc Brandybuck. He's Pippin's first cousin on his father's side and one of his best friends.'

Marcie gaped at her again. 'What?'

Kiearâ grinned solemnly at her sister

'It's like I said, his cousin is Merry and they're good friends.'

Marcie seemed amused, tilting her head slightly, watching Kiearâ with a strange blend of love and bemusement. Kiearâ's mother gasped, seeming quite horrified by the whole matter. Kiearâ sighed wearily.

§

Later that day Marcie came to see Kiearâ in her old room in their mother's home. The light of the day was just beginning to fade from the world as the fiery light of the sun sunk into the growing blue-black twilight that was growing in the sky.

Settling down next to her on her bed, Marcie laid down across the width of the bed, while Kiearâ sat at the end and watched her elder sister solemnly.

Marcie watched Kiearâ a moment before muttering dryly.

'You're much too serious sometimes Kiearâ.'

Kiearâ shook her head but said nothing.

Sighing, her sister stared up at the ceiling, seeming to trace the small etchings in stone over head.

Turning to look at Kiearâ, Marcie placed her chin against her folded arm, peering up at Kiearâ.

'I know I didn't quite show it, but I _am _glad for you whether you realized it or not.'

From her startled expression Kiearâ guessed Marcie could tell how much that had surprised her.

Curiously Kiearâ asked, 'Then why were you so stunned.'

Marcie grinned at her. 'It was partly for Mother's sake. When she told me I knew something beyond her comprehension was going to occur. So I thought I'd help her along a bit.' She winked at her sister.

Kiearâ smiled, feeling extremely grateful for her sister. She was one of the few people who understood her, or at least understood her enough so that Kiearâ didn't alienate her like with many others of Gondor, Vërtainir notwithstanding.

Shrugging more to herself than Kiearâ, Marcie rose from the bed stretching.

'I'll see you tomorrow then and maybe we can talk about this Pippin of yours.' She waved over her head as she headed for the door. Kiearâ grinned slightly in spite of herself.

Stopping suddenly, Marcie turned slowly as though remembering some small tidbit of knowledge that she had recently forgotten, asking in a rather quiet voice.

'Wasn't that the same hobbit who knew Boromir just before he died?'

She asked it slowly, almost wearily. Kiearâ bit her lip. Boromir, the late brother of the last Steward of the White City, had been one of the dearest people to her sister, almost a constant companion until he had become too busy with the threat of Mordor to see her. The word of his untimely death had shaken her more than she had cared to admit.

But there was a strangely reflective look in her sister's emerald eyes.

'How strange…that you should fall in love so deeply with one whom Boromir died to protect.'

Stunned, Kiearâ realized Marcie was right, there was a certain strangeness to it because she knew her sister had deeply loved Boromir, though her love for the proud man was that of loving, devoted sister instead of what Kiearâ felt for Pippin…a love of romance stronger than she had known, and that they should have known each other, yet Kiearâ herself had never been close to Boromir and Marcie had never even met Pippin. Before she could comment, Marcie replied rather quickly.

'Fate's strange that way.' She smiled thinly. 'I'm glad you found this Pippin. Because if he makes you this happy he's worth everything.'

Deeply moved Kiearâ watched in silence as her tall, bright sister departed the room.

§

Wandering outside her mother's home, Kiearâ walked out into the darkening night as the sun's rays faded from the western sky. She sighed wearily. All these talks the last two days had tired her out more than she would have thought. At least her sister understood, which was more than she could say for her mother.

Brachet just didn't understand. She loved Pippin. It wasn't as if she didn't know what she had been doing. She felt no regret, and she knew she would always treasure the time they had together. No one could take that away, not Aragorn, not Brachet. No one except themselves could put an end to what they shared. Of that she was quite certain.

Feeling content she wandered through the streets watching the stars begin to come out shining down like small jewels in the ink blue sky.

She let her mind wander also; as she let her feet lead her where they wished. In her half dreamy state she nearly passed a figure standing also along the road.

Surprised, Kiearâ turned to the figure, whose features where shadowed in the twilight of the evening. Calling out gently she asked, 'Who are you? And what reasons do you walk about at this hour?'

Kiearâ did feel genuinely curious about this person since her questions were quite true. Not that there was necessarily anything to fear in Gondor in the night, just that one did not usually find many people standing alone at dusk as though waiting for someone.

The figure did not answer right away. The figure was tall yet with a graceful air to them with wisdom and a queenly elegance that was far beyond anything Kiearâ would ever have.

She heard herself sigh.

As though thinking that to be an invitation, the figure moved across the moonlit street to peer into Kiearâ's eyes. This mysterious figure was obviously female but Kiearâ wondered if her cryptic acquaintance was truly human at all.

In her eyes was the light of many years, dark and bond to wisdom, yet Kiearâ saw a sorrow in her eyes, a sorrow that moved her heart for its strange beauty. In later years Kiearâ could never explain what she saw that night in the Queen Evenstar's eyes, except an irreplaceable sorrow rung with a bright joy which had been given to grace one of her kind, the Elven people, ere the world changed and the Evenstar of her people would fade from mortal memory. In the years that followed Kiearâ always looked back upon this strange meeting with a gentle repose as though something deeper in her than she knew understood more and saw clearer into the elf-maiden's bittersweet eyes than even she realized. What Arwen saw as she looked into Kiearâ's eyes she never learned.

'Arwen.' Kiearâ acknowledged her Elven Queen.

Arwen said nothing, but sighed.

'Aragorn tells me that you are acquainted with the Hobbit Peregrin Took of the Shire.'

It wasn't a question, it was a statement and Kiearâ recognized that. Feeling quite positively that it was none of Arwen's business yet aware that she should probably keep some of her opinions to herself.

There was what Kiearâ could only process as sadness in the Queen's eyes as she watched Kiearâ in the growing moonlight.

'Why do you force yourself to suffer?'

Taken aback, Kiearâ peered icily almost at the clear eyes of her Queen.

'What do you mean?'

Watching her solemnly, Arwen replied. 'Because…' she paused suddenly, as though unsure how to continue. 'What could he possibly have for you?'

Kiearâ stifled a dozen responses that leaped to mind right off but settled instead on a very simple response.

'His love. My happiness. He has those.'

Arwen seemed stunned by the response, then her eyes soften.

'I'm not saying your love is any less but truly he is meant to be with his people. Certainly you see that.'

Struck by a strange emotion Kiearâ felt sadness well up inside her heart for this beautiful Elven-maid before her. She had suffered so much and loved so much yet she could not see Kiearâ's love for Pippin.

'The same could be held true to you my dear Queen.' She said it softly, gently, not wanting to hurt Arwen yet desiring for the Queen to understand.

Arwen blinked back in surprise. Seeming unsure again she murmured, 'But he is a Hobbit'

'And I love him'

Arwen peered deeply into Kiearâ's eyes as though trying to perceive with her clearer sight some means with which to comprehend this strange bewilderment before her.

'I do not understand you.'

Kiearâ grinned wanly at her.

'It doesn't matter if you do.'

Arwen nodded accepting that for what it was as she turned her face away from Kiearâ to gaze up into the shining stars that had began to grace the dark sky.


	6. Outside the Shire, SR 1425

_Outside the Shire, S.R. 1425_

Kiearâ wasn't sure how to tell Pippin about Kelleghêr. She could tell he hadn't noticed anything unusual about Kelleghêr. Though she could understand why. There wasn't anything _obviously _unusual and what there was, was covered up, due to her mother's persistence. As far as anyone was concerned Kelleghêr was just a regular, if rosy cheeked baby with a beautiful head of wavy caramel brown hair and bright smile.

Chewing her lip absently, she turned back to Pippin, sitting on the stool nearby holding Kelleghêr on his lap trying to look calm but just ended up looking annoyed. And somewhat hurt.

Glancing up at her, Pippin said, trying to sound cheerful.

'So what does his father look like?'

Startled, she didn't respond. She turned away from him, reverting her attention back to the washing at hand. How to tell Pippin? She sighed. She was ashamed of herself at how hard this was for her. But what could she say, how could she say it? What was she supposed to say? She shook a mental fist at herself, reprimanding herself for her lack of communication.

'Kiearâ?'

'Yes Pippin?' she turned slightly, watching him from the side. He looked slightly hurt and confused by her lack of response.

'Are you all right?'

He seemed to be watching her intensely, as though afraid of the answer somehow. Not sure what to say she shrugged, feeling completely helpless and foolish. What was she to say? Pippin, darling, Kelleghêr here is your son?

Not being able to stand it, she hurried out doors to collect her laundry outside. Her house, though small, was well made woven of beech and ash branches and could stand against the weather rather well. It stood by a stream, by which she hung her clothing out to dry. Sighing she knelt near the gently moving river, taking her time to carefully pick up and then fold every set of clothing there.

Startled, she felt a hand slip around her waist.

'Oh Pippin you startled me.' She said, not able to keep the terseness out of her voice.

'Hm.'

She waited as he held her. She wanted to throw her arm around him and tell him everything and hold him forever and never let him go.

'Pippin's where's--'

'Kelleghêr?' he finished for her. 'He's inside. No need to worry.'

She felt him tighten his grip on her waist, as though daring someone to come and take her away from him. She sighed.

Gently but firmly he spun her around, forcing her to look down at him as he peered up into her eyes with searching eyes of his own, trying to gain some sort of truth through hers.

'Kiearâ look, you and I…we,' he seemed to blanch a moment, 'are very…close…and you know that I…that you can tell me anything.' He finished rather lamely

He looked hard at her, his eyes lacking their usual brightness.

'Kiearâ, tell me the truth. I deserve to know…'

To know if this was all a mistake, all just a game, she finished for him inside her head voicing his unsaid words.

She sighed. She tried to turn away but he held her firmly.

'Why can't you tell me?'

She heard his voice crack slightly, his emotions starting to break through his carefully crafted barrier he had erected. She bit her lip. Hanging her head, she whispered hoarsely.

'I thought…I don't know what I thought…I just…I didn't…I don't know how to tell…'

Kissing her hand, Pippin murmured.

'You know you can tell me anything. You know I…how I feel…'

He glanced up at her. His eyes were so anxious, so sad, and yet so hopeful at the same time. She felt at a lost of what to say or do.

'Kiearâ please…just tell who it was.'

He asked softly, closing his eyes, as though expecting a large blow about to break his heart.

She looked down at him a moment, watching him silently.

'You. It was you. You're Kelleghêr's father.'

Pippin's eyes shot open. Stunned, he gaped at her quite taken by surprise at her unexpected words.

Kiearâ felt a small laugh began to bubble inside her at his expression. She smiled slightly at him instead.

'But…how?' he stammered. She gave him a look and realizing the absurdity of his question he blushed slightly, feeling his face go redder as Kiearâ laughed and flung her arms around him holding him close.

§

Later that night they stood side by side in one of the smaller rooms Kiearâ had just recently constructed, with no other light except the faint glow from the waning moon shining through the open window.

'Are you sure…er, it was me?' Pippin asked as they watched Kelleghêr sleep soundly.

Silently Kiearâ nodded. Smiling down at him she said, 'Who else could it have been?'

Pippin shrugged slightly.

'Well, you never know.' He responded helplessly.

'Gee, your faith in me is overwhelming.' Kiearâ teased, wrapping her arms around him steering him out of Kelleghêr's room.

Startled, Pippin muttered back, seeming unaware of her sarcasm, 'That wasn't what I—'

She silenced him with a kiss. Taken aback he raised an eyebrow at her, studying her warily. Nudging his shoulder she whispered.

'Oh you know I didn't mean it.'

Looking up at her Pippin made a face of half annoyance and half amusement at her.

'Oh, all right then.' After a moments pause he added. 'But you better make it up to me.'

She thought she should have been startled but she laughed. Pippin growled slightly and grabbed for her but she dodged him leading him on a merry little chase around the main room until he finally caught up to her pulling her to the wooden floor. Somehow their little sport of tag did not once disrupt Kelleghêr's sleep.


	7. Gondor, SR 1430

_Gondor, S.R. 1430_

She felt Kelleghêr's eyes watching her vaguely annoyed. He stirred in her lap as she sighed and looked back down on his bright hair and bright eyes that stared back at her questioningly.

'Mama?'

Kiearâ shrugged slightly, feeling muffled.

'There's not much to say…' she murmured uncertainly.

Kelleghêr looked far from convinced, and he gave her a disapproving look just to prove it. She chuckled in spite of herself at such a forced stern look coming from such a sweet face in her mind.

It was remarkable, as she continued to study her son's face, how much more similar he was to Pippin than to herself. He had all the curiosity of any outlandish hobbit in his eyes. But Kelleghêr was stubborn, a streak and trait all his own. The one thing Pippin had not been was stubborn. Yes, he had been determined if he had to be but not stubborn. Kiearâ nearly smiled at the thought.

'Mother!' He said it with more force, pulling on her sleeves when she would not respond right away. The one thing Kelleghêr wanted was answers; he was immensely interested in everything.

She heard herself sigh again.

After hesitating a moment, she murmured, ' The King wouldn't let your father come here once I moved back is all.'

Kelleghêr's blue eyes crinkled in thought. He seemed confused.

'The King? Aragorn you mean?' he was silent a moment. Looking up at her, his eyes bright with puzzlement. ' Then why…but why wouldn't he? Let my father come here, I mean? Why not? If he wasn't bad then why not?'

Kiearâ wasn't sure how to answer that. What to say? That Aragorn thought he had been doing what was right and there really was not much way to change it. How to explain it all…that she had no grudge against Aragorn, he had let her and Pippin be for almost three years before Pippin's own people had taken matters into their own hands. But how to tell Kelleghêr that? She wasn't sure. She had always naturally planned to tell him about his father, and the same held true for Primoúl, her three-year-old daughter asleep in the other room.

Holding his face in her hands she kissed him atop the head and asked, 'If I tell you do you promise not to ran amuck telling whoever you first meet?'

He nodded wide-eyed.

She shook her head.

'It is not a great secret Kelleghêr, just not widely known for certain reasons I suppose.'

Kelleghêr just waited on her lap for her to continue.

Well there wasn't much other way to say it, so she assumed she had just tell him, since he was asking.

'Your father is a hobbit from around the northern reaches of the King's domain. I met him down in Gondor during the War of the Ring, right before Aragorn became King actually. His name is Peregrin Took.' She left it at that. It had come out easier than she would have thought. She felt pleased with herself oddly.

Kelleghêr looked…pleased also.

Feeling that she had been had, she asked, 'Why do you look so fine about this? Did someone already tell you?'

She couldn't think of whom, unless either Vërtainir or Marcie had decided that someone should tell the boy.

He shook his head.

'No. It just makes me feel better to know.'

She nodded. She could understand that.

Jumping off her lap Kelleghêr made for the door just as energized as before.

Turning back to her he called, 'At least it explains some things.'

Startled, she started to respond but he was gone before she could think of a proper enough response.


	8. Fangorn Forest, SR 1442

_Fangorn Forest, S.R. 1442_

She liked to wander around in the woods. More so now that she was older. She found it much more comforting. She could leave her sorrows here. She rested for a moment in her walking. Settling down on the grassy turf, she watched the river flow by, its dark waters shimmering with light as small rays of sunlight shone through the thick branches above. All in all the forest wasn't what she would call 'friendly' but it certainly wasn't hostile, more sleepy than anything, if one could call a forest that.

She lay out, savoring the small amount of sun while she could. She had been exploring the woods for quite a while now and it had seemed so much more…enclosed before. Though she had not minded too much. It fitted her. She was not particularly looking forward to the return trip back to Gondor. Her trip to Rohan had been more successful and King Éomer of the Mark had been more than helpful to provide her with the right information.

It had been for a new book Vërtainir had been working on lately that focused on the history and geography of Rohan instead of Gondor or Arnor in the north. Éomer had been more than happy to oblige her. It had taken shorter time than had been allotted for and with the free time she had wandered until she had come here, north of Edoras.

She rather liked it. Yes, she did not feel very safe here but content enough she supposed. She felt herself grin dryly at such an absurd thought. She was much more practical than that. Or at least she liked to believe herself to be, though often she wondered if she was really as logical as she liked to believe.

Sighing, she sat up from her resting position, mulling over in her head whether or not she should go on or return back to Edoras. It likely would take her at least a two or three day ride to get back to Edoras.

To her sudden surprise she thought she heard a strange rustling sound coming from nearby. Turning in the direction of the sound, she saw nothing but trees with long dusty foliage. Feeling vaguely unsettled, she decided that she would be best off returning back to Edoras as soon as possible. These woods were fine in their own right, yet she had a feeling she wouldn't want to be here if the woods began to get…a little testy.

She felt as though the trees were watching her, with silent eyes.

Shrugging away her strange unease, she rose. Though instinctively she knew it wasn't really unease…it was more the feeling when you have accidentally intruded on another's private space.

Feeling a strange impulse come over her, she waved solemnly to the tall towering trees, saying,

'I'm sorry I didn't have enough time to spend here. I know a few others who might appreciate you.'

Turning to leave she heard a strange noise, almost like a rustling but not quite, a noise she had never heard before.

'Ho, hum, hoom, what's this here?'

Turning slowly around Kiearâ felt her eyes widen in shock. Before her stood what looked almost like a tree, yet with a vaguely man-like expression towering many feet above her. His skin, if that's what it was, seemed to be made of bark, smooth yet rough from the ages and around his face she assumed it was, was what she took to be beard after a fashion, with the roots around the end of his face appearing twiggy while as it progressed it grew mossier, falling away from his face.

Not sure what to make of this…odd…creature…she noticed for the first time the eyes of this peculiar creature.

They reminded her of water, deep and cool and calm. There was stillness beneath these rich eyes that bored down on her. Like a…wall behind the clear water, with secrets and knowledge deeper than any underground mountain river or lake. Yet she felt that there was an incredible strength behind those eyes…that if those waters were roused they would break upon rocks like glass. But at the same time there was a very earthy look to those clear eyes…this was a creature of the earth, of the stone of the earth. There was a light in the eyes as though taking in what was happening now, but there was still that great standing wall behind… there was so much depth there, she couldn't put it into words…there was such sorrow and long years hidden in those eyes, yet there was such awareness in them, shining through.

She felt herself smile at those eyes. There was something beautiful about them that brought tears to her eyes, something closer and deeper to the earth than even the Elves, something closer to Mankind than Elves…something they could reach out for and treasure while the Elves were only a fading dream. She felt suddenly, rather passionately, that she did not want to lose these creatures, they were too important for that…

To her surprise she felt tears spring unbidden to her own eyes though she could never have explained why.

'Hoom, here, hum, hoom, what's this?' It sounded vaguely concerned whatever it was.

She smiled again, loosely up at it. As she felt those eyes continuing to watch her she realized with a start whom those eyes belonged to.

'Treebeard?' she asked hesitantly, feeling strangely shy almost, around such a remarkable creature.

'Hoom, hm, yes that's my name. Where have you heard that little one?'

He peered curiously down at her as she answered him, his eyes taking on an odd light as she told him.

'My…Pippin told me about you once. He tried to tell me about you and the other Ents. I never understood what he was talking about…until now.'

As she looked up at him she was stunned to see a strange look of what might have passed for pain for her own people.

'Treebeard?'

'Hm…ho, yes you know Pippin then, hm?'

She diverted her eyes, feeling unsure of her response.

'Well yes…'

'But…hoom, hum…there's more to it.'

Startled, she nodded, forgetting for the moment her previous thoughts of heading back to Edoras as soon as possible. She felt oddly that she could, or more should than anything else, tell this age-old creature her small little story.

Sighing she murmured, sitting back down upon the grass, staring off into the distant path of the winding river, 'Yes…I first met him in Gondor…over twenty years ago.'

She was silent, not sure how to continue. Treebeard didn't say anything, just seemed to be waiting for her to go on. She would have chuckled to herself if she had felt the need, for here she was unsure how to begin and he was waiting for here. Somehow she found it incredibly amusing. And strangely touching.

She sighed again.

'I met him again later while I was in Arnor, around Bree…'

§

Treebeard was an excellent listener Kiearâ had decided. He only commented sometimes and seemed fairly interested in what she had to say about Pippin and her and their children. Every so often, he would ask for clarification which sometimes lead to a rather out of order chronology of the events.

Looking up Kiearâ, noticed that the forest had grown darker, a slight shadow covering the weathered branches like cloaks, which she assumed meant that the sun had set and the night was spreading out it's dark rays to cover the earth.

'Hoom…whatever became of that son of yours? He sounds as hasty a woodpecker.'

Kiearâ grinned at the phrase though she didn't quite understand what Treebeard meant.

'Kelleghêr?' She sighed absently. 'I haven't seen him for a few months now. He had a…disagreement with Aragorn and left Gondor.'

'Hm?'

Kiearâ smiled weakly up at him.

'Kell never liked the fact Aragorn got in the way of Pippin and me being together.'

The Ent looked thoughtful, his deep eyes appearing to delve into that wall behind them, with a far away look.

'I can understand why…though perhaps for different reasons.' Then turning back to Kiearâ's sitting form, his eyes turned back out, to the present, becoming again lighted with the alertness she had first seen.

'Though we Ents do not really become involved in…hoom, hm, the affairs of Men. Still…' his eyes looked sad for a moment, 'those two little Hobbits they called themselves…I'm sorry to hear it…hoom…you would have made him happy.'

'I hope I did.' She murmured softly.

'Eh? Hoom, hum, I think you did.'

Startled, she glanced up at him and his eyes seemed to have softened slightly. There was the strangest look his old eyes, something sad, but sad for her and himself as well, something he had lost, something that had meant as much to him as Pippin meant to her. How odd that such simple pain could wound so deeply…how much she wanted to take away the pain this creature, this Ent, had.

'But we were so happy together. I wouldn't be the person I am now without him. Even for the small time we had I still treasure it…and somehow…' she was quiet a moment, 'when I look back on those few memories I can't really be sad…because I think I know he wouldn't want that…'

Treebeard nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

'That's quite a lot to say coming from such a supposed hasty creature.'

She grinned up at him, more sincere this time. She had the oddest feeling that there was something in those few words that meant something, something deeper to her that she realized. She shook it off returning her attention back to the huge Ent before her.

Treebeard still appeared troubled by something.

'This son of yours and Pippin's…hoom…hm, he had a falling out did you say?'

She nodded.

'Once Kell turned old enough where he could speak to Aragorn without interference because of his young age, he did just that.' She sighed. 'He always tried to get Aragorn to do something for us. I don't know why he was so passionate about it. I always tried to make him understand that I had no regrets about any of it…'

'None?'

She shrugged. 'Well, not none I suppose…but who can live without regrets.'

'Hoom, that's very true…' Again his eyes grew thoughtful, more inward, as though her words had struck a deep memory inside him. Though perhaps not that deep, seeing as how much it meant to him.

Absently she said, 'Even the Elves have regrets. No living thing can be without regret really, because there are always choices to make and you never know which one you may regret.'

'Hm, yes, one never does…'

'Treebeard?'

'Hm.'

'Where are all the other Ents? The younger Ents?'

His eyes grew sad and far away, and she knew somehow that the pain he had was due to the answer to this seemingly simple question. She knew something had happened to cause him pain, to cause him his own mournful regrets. She felt her heart go out to him, wanting to help him somehow…

'There are none and we are beginning to fade because of it. I am the oldest and there have been so few of us for so long…so few…' he answered softly, his eyes dark and wallowing in some untold long-ago emotion.

'But you can't fade away!' Her voice broke with a sudden passionate emotion as she struggled to contain the tears that had begun to sting her eyes.

Her forceful yell had startled Treebeard. Looking as though he was scolding a young child, he reprimanded her gently, 'There is nothing anyone can do to change it.' His eyes grew sad, with a weary gleam in those clear water eyes, as he continued, 'We Ents, we made a choice as you said, which we will regret I believe.'

'But you and your kind are worth more than that!'

He gave her a penetrating glance.

'The Elves are fading away too, yet you do not seem to be yelling for them to stop.'

'But that's different Treebeard. They are leaving Middle-Earth of their free will…you…you are just going to fade away from mortal memory and cease to be…' She felt her eyes filling with unbidden tears, her heart breaking at the thought of losing him and his kind.

Yes the Elves were beautiful and wondrous, but their age had passed…they could find their place across the sea…the Ents were of Middle-Earth. They couldn't leave it. And Men needed these giant shepherds…they needed them more than she could explain. Men needed their patience and their wisdom. Men needed them to remind them of what they had and what they should hold on to. How could humanity lose this?

It hurt her, made her want to cry, yet the tears would not come, except partially to water her eyes.

His eyes were thoughtful again.

'Perhaps…' and he sighed, a deep sound, vibrating like the bowls of the earth. Whatever it was he had thought he did not say, and Kiearâ never had the chance to ask.

Turning his eyes to the sky the old Ent watched the growing dark black-blue sky overhead as though thinking of something. Kiearâ turned her eyes skyward, watching the sky through the leaves. A sudden gush of wind blew through the branches creating a small gap in the thick trees. She saw a single star, shining brightly through the gap, like a silent luminous light, white fire glistening in the inky dark.

For a single moment a strange feeling over came her, though it was so sudden she almost thought she had imagined it. She was struck by the beauty of it and felt somewhere in her a sense of contentment grow, filled with a sense of security, burning like a guiding light in her darkness. Something unusually profound that struck at a cord in her soul…something that called out for desire and passion, a call to these shining dreams she saw, all ablaze in the single white star. There was hope in it, a small hope, a tiny promise that these beautiful things would never really be lost, that though they may fade for a time, the feelings would never fade and perhaps they would come again, these forgotten times of long-off beauty.

But it was more than beauty…it was something so fragile, so real, so close to every living thing. The idea of creation, of feelings, of hope, those things were so integrated into the souls of creatures that they sometimes didn't realize what they were capable of. It struck her suddenly that there were things deeper and older and higher than the moments that were being lived right now. And that these precious moments were always continuing, like a radiant white tunnel, going on forever, stretching through the emotions of those who lived and loved and died. There was something that was worth protecting…something that was worth believing in.

But the thoughts were fleeting and in a moment the breeze had gone and the branches had returned to their place, blocking the star from her gaze. She never truly remembered these thoughts or even the strange feelings of serenity and devotion that they had given her. For the moment she felt her limbs biting in the cold.

Rising from her seat on the now grey turf, she turned to the silent figure of Treebeard and said, 'I suppose I had better head back to Edoras now.' She looked back toward the direction leading out of the forest the way she had come. 'I have a ways to travel tonight.'

Treebeard nodded solemnly. He didn't say anything, but she felt instinctively that he really had somehow appreciated her words with him, however short it may have been. That strangely made her smile though as many things this night she never could have said why.

Without a word, Kiearâ turned silently to go, heading back the way she had come. As she went back along what had served as her previous path, she thought that she heard Treebeard murmuring softly to himself, though she could not make out the words and later she wondered if it had just been the wind rustling through the sleepy trees like an unremembered dream…


End file.
